


Snow

by BubbleGumLizard



Series: Mystrade NaNoWriMo 2015 [10]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff and Smut, M/M, Snowball Fight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2015-11-15
Packaged: 2018-05-01 17:16:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5214200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BubbleGumLizard/pseuds/BubbleGumLizard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Greg playfully throws a snowball at Sherlock...and misses, hitting his brother Mycroft.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snow

**Author's Note:**

> I promised fluff and here it is. It ended up with a bit more smut than I wanted, but that's never a bad thing, right?

Greg smiled and looked around at the winter wonderland the park had become.  He knew that he shouldn’t be so happy while going home from a crime scene, but this amount of snow always made him smile and feel like a child again.  While he was walking, he saw Sherlock standing and talking to a man in a very nice coat.  Smiling, he bent down and picked up a nice handful of snow.  He packed it into a perfectly formed snowball and hefted it in his hand.  It would be very funny to see Sherlock covered in snow from a snowball, not to mention how much it would annoy him.  He hesitated for a moment, wondering what would happen if he hit the strange man or if it was something important that they were discussing, but Greg was in far too good a mood.  He lobbed the snowball straight for Sherlock.

And then Sherlock moved.

The ball hit the strange man in the chest, exploding on impact and covering him in white powdery snow.  The man and Sherlock both looked at Greg, who was frozen in place, shocked.  Sherlock burst into laughter while the man brushed himself off.

“I’m so sorry!  I meant to hit that idiot,” Greg said, walking over as quickly as the snow would allow him.  “I’m Greg Lestrade.”

“I know who you are,” the man said drily.

“You should have seen your face, Mycroft!” Sherlock exclaimed, still laughing hysterically.

Geg felt all of the blood leave his face.  “You’re Mycroft?  Mycroft Holmes?  The shadowy government brother?”

The man was wiping the last of the snow off of his coat.  “I suggest running,” he said to Greg,

Greg was concerned for a moment, but then he saw the slight upturn of the corners of Mycroft’s mouth.  He ran off down the path as quickly as he could as Mycroft bent and scooped up some snow.  When Greg looked back, Sherlock was staring as Mycroft ran after Greg, forming the snowball as he ran.  Greg scooped snow as he ran, thanking his years playing football for his speed.

Without warning, something soft and cold hit the back of his head.  He turned around to see Mycroft standing fairly close to him, smiling.  “You’re fast, but I’m faster,” he said.

Greg threw the snowball in his hands and caught Mycroft off guard: he must not have seen Greg holding it.  The ball caught Mycroft square in the chin, making him stumble backwards.

“You will pay for that,” Mycroft growled and ran at Greg.  Greg paused, unsure exactly what was about to happen.  He realized what Mycroft was doing and reacted too late.  He tried to run, but slipped in the snow.  Mycroft launched himself and tackled Greg into the snow, landing on top of him.

Greg huffed out a breath, shocked by this turn of events.  “Yes, I’m the shadowy government brother, as you so eloquently put it,” Mycroft said, not moving.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Greg said, smiling up at Mycroft.  Normally he would assume that any man who somehow ended up on top of him was interested, but he wasn’t entirely sure.  The Holmes brothers were weird, after all.

“Oh, trust me, the pleasure is all mine,” Mycroft said in a low, sexy voice, and Greg was sure.

Greg took a deep breath and then flipped their positions so that he was on top of Mycroft, who was on his back.  Greg straddled him, feeling something hard pressing against his arse where it rested on Mycroft and he smiled.  “It certainly will be,” Greg promised.

“This is very cold,” Mycroft said, trying to sound dignified.

“Very observant, Holmes,” Greg said.  He had Mycroft pinned under his weight, so he thought he had some time to play.  He picked up a handful of snow and looked at it thoughtfully, taking his time forming it into  a snowball.

“What do you plan to do with that?” Mycroft asked, eyeing the snowball.  

“What do you think I should do with it?” Greg asked, his eyes darting to where Mycroft’s scarf had fallen back, revealing a thin strip of neck.

“I think not,” Mycroft said and practically threw Greg.  Greg was surprised, but he reacted quickly.  Before Mycroft could get on top of Greg, he flipped over onto his hands and knees and started to run away, pushing off with his gloved hands in the snow.  Something grabbed his ankle and yanked him back.  He turned to see Mycroft kneeling and pulling on his ankle, looking downright dangerous.  It was the hottest thing Greg had seen in years.  He kicked back, trying to get free, and only succeeded in making Mycroft, who had a vise-like grip on Greg’s ankle, laugh.  He yanked again, pulling Greg back far enough that he could get a good grip on one of Greg’s wrists and pull him up.  

“What kind of government official are you?” Greg asked, struggling against Mycroft’s hold.

“I don’t always sit at a desk,” Mycroft said, putting his arm around Greg’s waist and drawing him close.  “I dare say that my work is much more physical than yours.”

“I am not used to being manhandled,” Greg said, wrapping his arms around Mycroft.  Their faces were very close, the two of them chest to chest on their knees.  Mycroft was shivering slightly.  “Would you like to get a cup of coffee and warm up?”

“My flat is nearby, perhaps we can go warm up in front of the fire,” Mycroft suggested.

“Sounds lovely,” Greg said.  He didn’t want to let go, but he reluctantly did and stood, helping Mycroft up.  They trudged back through the snow to the path, where Sherlock was staring at them, shocked.

“What are you two doing?” Sherlock demanded, his eyes fixed on where Greg and Mycroft were holding hands.

“I think, brother, each other,” Mycroft said, glancing at Greg.  

Greg burst into laughter at the expression on Sherlock’s face.  “A bit presumptuous, but it might happen,” he agreed.

“You two are disgusting,” Sherlock said and walked off in the opposite direction.

“I’m sorry I hit you with a snowball,” Greg said as they continued down the path toward Mycroft’s flat.

Mycroft laughed.  “It gave me an excuse to hit you with one.”

“Do you know who everyone is who spends time with your brother?” Greg asked curiously.  He supposed that he should find that creepy, but he didn’t.

“I take an interest in those who have an influence on his life.  I occasionally corner him at your crime scenes.  I have tried to introduce myself, but you’re always very busy.”

“I hear that you kidnapped John Watson.”

Mycroft chuckled.  “I may have done something that counts as kidnapping.  I considered kidnapping you when you first met Sherlock, but I...well, I chose not to.”

“Why not?”

Mycroft blushed slightly.  “You are a very attractive man, Detective Inspector.”

“I think that considering the fact that we were just on top of each other and we’re currently holding hands, you can probably use my first name.  Call me Greg.”

“Likewise, you can call me Mycroft.”

"This is me,” Mycroft said, pointing to a very expensive-looking building.

“I’m not sure I have enough money to use the front entrance,” Greg joked as he followed Mycroft in.

“Oh, we aren’t so classist as that.  We allow the workers to use the front door on occasion,” Mycroft said with a grin as they stepped into the elevator.

Greg stepped close to Mycroft and kissed his cheek.  “And how often do you allow workers in?” he asked.

“Never,” Mycroft said quietly.  “This isn’t something I normally do.”

“Good.  I don’t either.  I’m more of a long-term person.”

“Is that what this is going to be?  We hardly know each other.”

“That might be rushing things a bit.  Let’s get through the first date and then we’ll discuss it.”

“This is the strangest date I’ve ever had,” Mycroft said as the elevator dinged and stopped.

Greg didn’t say anything when Mycroft led him to the only door on that level of the building.  He supposed that Mycroft had the entire floor.  Considering the quality of Mycroft’s suits and the building that they were in, Mycroft was probably the richest man Greg had ever spoken to, let alone shagged, so it didn’t seem unlikely that Mycroft had the whole floor.  When Mycroft opened the door, Greg was amazed at the beautiful flat.  It was all dressed in dark woods and rich colors and there was a fire roaring in the fireplace.  Greg quirked an eyebrow at Mycroft.

“My assistant was waiting for me in the car while I spoke to Sherlock.  It seems like she assumed we would be coming back here,” Mycroft said, pulling off his coat, gloves, and scarf.

Greg took his own outerwear off and handed it to Mycroft.  His trousers and shirt were wet as well and he sighed, looking down at them.

“I’m afraid I’m soaked through as well,” Mycroft said.  “I have a spare dressing gown, if you would like me to hang your clothes in front of the fire,” he offered.

“That would be lovely,” Greg said and started unbuttoning his shirt.  He realized that Mycroft was staring at him and grinned.  “Would you like me to dance a little for you?”

Mycroft blushed.  Greg stepped close to him, slid his hand around the back of Mycroft’s neck, and pulled him in for a deep kiss.  “You look adorable when you blush,” he murmured, pulling away before kissing him again.

“Very few people have made me blush,” Mycroft told him as Greg kissed his way down Mycroft’s jaw to his neck.  He moaned and tilted his head back so Greg had more access.

“I don’t think a dressing gown will be necessary,” Greg said, walking backwards to a chair and dragging Mycroft with him.  He fumbled at Mycroft’s trouser buttons while Mycroft worked at Greg’s shirt and pushed it off.  Greg dropped his shirt on the floor and divested Mycroft of his suit coat and waistcoat before setting to work on his shirt buttons.  Mycroft made quick work of Greg’s trousers and before long they were both standing there in nothing but their pants, which hid very little.

Mycroft pushed Greg back so that he fell into the chair and climbed into his lap.  He kissed Greg slowly and gently, running his hands down Greg’s chest, through thick swirls of chest hair.  “You are unbelievable,” Mycroft whispered, grinding down into Greg’s lap.

Greg moaned as Mycroft kissed his way down Greg’s chest, sliding down to the floor.  He pulled Greg’s pants off of him gently, watching with interest as Greg’s hard cock bobbed when Greg lifted his hips up to help.  He reached into a side table drawer and pulled out a condom.  Greg raised an eyebrow again and Mycroft grinned.  “My assistant is very good at anticipating my needs.”  Greg chuckled as Mycroft rolled the condoms down Greg’s length, the chuckle turning into a moan when Mycroft took Greg entirely into his mouth.

Mycroft gagged slightly and pulled back to the tip, bobbing his head so his lips slid up and down Greg’s entire length.  “That feels amazing,” Greg moaned, resting his hand on Mycrott’s head.

Mycroft moaned, making his mouth vibrate around Greg’s cock.  Greg groaned and bucked his hips slightly at that, making Mycroft chuckle and moan again.  “I’m going to come if you keep doing that,” Greg panted, closing his eyes and leaning back.

Mycroft pulled off.  “I’d like for you to fuck me,” he said bluntly.

Greg stared.  He thought he could get used to being with someone who was so clear with what he wanted all the time.  “Sounds good to me,” he said when Mycroft seemed to be waiting for an answer.  He reached down and pulled Mycroft up into his lap, looking in the open side table drawer and pulling out a rather large bottle of lubricant.  

He hefted the bottle and looked at Mycroft with a smile.  Mycroft blushed once again.  “She’s optimistic,” he muttered.

Greg laughed.  “We’ll have to see how much of it we can get through,” he said in a sultry voice and grinned when Mycroft shivered with anticipation.

Greg poured some lubricant into his hand and set to work preparing Mycroft for penetration, while he caressed his face with the other hand.  He pulled Mycroft’s face to meet his own and kissed him deeply.

Watching and feeling Mycroft’s reactions as Greg slid his fingers in and out, stretching him, were nearly enough to make Greg come.  Mycroft was extremely responsive and kept letting out the sexiest little noises.  Greg tried to keep their lips together to muffle the noises, but it was taking all of his self-control not to orgasm.  Eventually, Greg was confident that Mycroft was ready.  He gave Mycroft one last, slow kiss and then spun him around so that he was facing out.

With his hands on Mycroft’s hips, he positioned himself at Mycroft’s entrance and let Mycroft control the amount of pressure as he ground down, sliding Greg’s cock into him.  When Greg was all the way in, Mycroft paused for a moment and then bounced experimentally.  Greg grunted, forcing himself not to buck up into Mycroft.

“Go,” Mycroft gasped out, resting his hands on the arm of the chair.  “Move.  Hard.”

Greg bucked up, making Mycroft cry out in pleasure.  On Mycroft’s instructions, he didn’t wait and kept bucking, thrusting himself deeply into Mycroft.

“I’m not going to last very long,” Greg gasped out.  Mycroft was making the dirtiest sounds Greg had ever heard and it was more intense than anything Greg had ever experienced.

“Good,” Mycroft replied, bouncing himself harder and faster.  He was letting out little whimpers and cries as he impaled himself, his hand flying over his own cock.  In a moment, he let out a shout and came on his hand, tightening around Greg, who groaned and came as well.

Mycroft disappeared for a moment, taking the condom with him.  He came back with a large, fluffy blanket and crawled into Greg’s lap, pulling the blanket over both of them.  He rested his head on Greg’s shoulder and sighed happily.  “Is this okay?”

“Wonderful,” Greg said, feeling sleepy.  “So nice.”

“It really was.”

“Yes, definitely not a one time thing.”

“Mmm.  I also find myself in favor of the long-term for this,” Mycroft said with a yawn.

“Very good.”

 

 


End file.
